The earth quivered each time a hoof struck against it, flinging clods of soft forest dirt into the air. The horse was a comet of white, and the flecks of hot foam from its mouth were bits of burning ice breaking from its heavenly body. The rider crouched down to avoid obstacles and increase their speed. As one, they were the very wind.

For hours the forest had crowded around them, and the beaten path had been out of sight for hours. Nobody had come this way for a long, long time. Still, neither doubted the course; neither doubted the other. They had been in this together far too long for that. The goal was close- they could feel it, down in the pits of their stomachs. Their breath came in tandem, heavy and hot.

Soon enough, their instincts were confirmed. An immense castle rose up before them, and it grew with every inch gained. The dark giant dominated the horizon, for a tree could not compete with the harsh, black stone that had once been the finest any stonemason could hope to offer. It had been, no doubt, some virtuoso's masterpiece, one distant day in the past. It belonged to the old world now, and not only that- it belonged to the forest. Vines and ivy had slowly crept across the sleeping gargantuan, giving it a patchy coat of green. Unnamed trees worked on the walls, and pestilent weeds invaded the courtyard; the only remaining plants with any vestige of pedigree had long since interbred to form something hardier and enduring. Their delicate beauty could not withstand the years.

Inside the castle, on the other hand, lay a delicate flower that in sleep showed no sign of age. Her ripe lips would be as pink and full as the day she had closed her eyes, her body as lithe and young, her hair as silky-soft and raven, her eyes as vibrantly blue… if only someone could wake her. This was the end that the rider sought. No one, thus far, had accomplished it. The dormant castle had not faded into innocence; the giant was not fond of visitors.

Now they were within walking distance. Aubrey dismounted and gazed at the steed, heaving a gentle sigh. The woods were far from a safe place to tether a horse, and this beast had done no wrong. If the creature were lost, too, braving the way out would become even more challenging than it already was going to be- particularly with a princess in tow. There was simply no other choice, though. The knight knew it would be no safer inside than out, and so with one last, tender glance, secured the horse tightly to a nearby tree. It stamped and chawed impatiently; its shrinking master reflected in its large, black eyes.

Even with the distribution of debris- scattered stone, fallen trees, unchecked vegetation- the courtyard was disturbingly empty. There was no sign of conscious life. Once this place had surely had a pulse all its own – children running about, peddlers shouting to peasants, planters taking a short break to wipe the sweat from their brows and chat about the exciting prospect of a bountiful harvest. The nobility would have gathered far from the commoners, probably, resting in their well-groomed gardens, if not inside their own elegant quarters. They would have kept their composure and spoken sensibly of dignified matters such as history and music, until they were in the company of only their closest confidants. Then the conversation would turn to gossip, scandal, and simple human mirth. It was different, now. Nothing breathed here.

As chilling a prospect all of this was, Aubrey saw no sense in lingering. There was, after all, a maiden to be rescued. Life could not be restored to her kingdom, but she was a different matter altogether. It would be an injustice to let her down again, as so many had done before. The knight moved toward what appeared to be the entrance, wondering idly if the princess felt anything in her sleep. Did she know, perhaps, by some gentle stirring in her unconscious mind, that her savior was on the way? It was an interesting question; Aubrey would have to remember to inquire once all of this was complete.

The door was close now, only a few feet away. Aubrey stopped a moment, eyes closed, summoning courage. It was not something the knight was lacking of – by a long shot – but Aubrey liked to enter the battlefield in utter calm, fluid as a river whose still surface hid a raging, passionate undercurrent. It was grounding, and it was intimidating to opponents, too. Placid blue eyes came back to life beneath wisps of fiery red hair. Aubrey reached out, giving the door a quick, sharp shove.

The old, rusted lock was not an issue. The rotting wood made no protest, leaning inward before collapsing; it was obvious that it had not been attached to its hinges for some time now. Motes of dust shot up in abundance and the soft, solid sound of its impact echoed throughout the castle’s entrance. For a split second, the fierce placidity of the knight was broken. This, it seemed, was hallowed ground, and Aubrey was but a crass intruder disrespecting and interrupting its solemn sanctity. What right did anyone have to barge in and disturb the quiescent past when sleeping dogs were meant to lie?

With a shake of the head, Aubrey banished these thoughts. Of course entering was reasonable – more than that, it was a duty. This was not a dog, but a princess whom had been cruelly denied her freedom, her life, for far too long, and it was about time somebody did something about that. This land was not holy. A rotting, destitute castle was no place for youth and beauty; it could do it no justice. That was that, and Aubrey cautiously crossed the threshold, avoiding the fallen boards.

A chill went down the knight’s back, battle instincts springing to life. The entrance hall looked empty, but it didn’t feel empty, not by a long shot. Something or somebody was here. There was no indication of the presence’s whereabouts, so Aubrey froze in place scanned with scrutiny before going any further. There was no need to be brash; the princess had waited an eternity, and she could stand to wait a few moments more. Everything was surprisingly well-kempt, once you got inside. It was sparse and run down, but there was no obvious mark of vandalism. Besides the dust, things were generally clean, so it seemed someone had been doing a little housekeeping.

This only made the moment tenser. No survivor had come away with a good account of what it was, exactly, that deterred them from their quest, and it had been so long that most accounts were poorly kept or had been altered over time. It was sentient, for sure, and apparently some sort of masculine being, but there was no telling if it was confined to one form, because there was no way it could have been human. The extent of its power was unclear, but one would assume, considering its perfect track record, that it was not an easy being to surpass. The final known aspect, and not an entirely reassuring one, was that it was not shy to kill an intruder if it deemed it necessary. Simple weakness was one thing, but bad moral character – in the eyes of whatever this thing happened to be – was inexcusable. It seemed logical, of course. It had someone to protect. Still, it would have been a lie to say it wasn’t just a little unnerving.

As Aubrey observed a slightly threadbare tapestry, a burst of laughter echoed through the room. The knight quickly gauged the source of the noise and snapped to the left, poise straight and ready for combat. One hand rested on the guard of a light but very well-sharpened sword. It was difficult, but Aubrey was determined not to allow any apprehension to show, for the host and the uninvited guest were face to face now, with scarcely ten feet separating them.

The guardian was indeed masculine, and he appeared to be human enough, though appearances were deceiving. Upon closer inspection, he displayed visible tokens of his preternatural nature. He was normal, if rather tall, in stature, and his skin tone was a mundane light olive, and his face did not appear strange, except that it was not old in the slightest, whereas his hair was a shade of very uniform dark gray, nearly black. It was quite straight and fell to his chin; from it poked the tips of two sharply pointed ears. He stood with his arms folded and wore an off-color grin. Though it was not an open enough smile to be entirely certain, one could see the likely beginnings of elongated canines. Perhaps the most striking thing of all, though, was his irises. They were a pale but vivid, liquid silver; it was as if his tiny black pupils had been embedded in mercury.

“Ahh. I see you’ve made it, traveler. Welcome to our humble abode,” sneered the man. For the moment, Aubrey said nothing. Seeing he had elicited no reaction, he continued, “You must have had a reason for coming here. I think you know what I mean, yes?” The knight’s heels dug in slightly, and the sentinel’s grin only widened. “Well, what a surprise. It’s been a while since we received a hopeless hopeful- it must have been decades now. I lose track of the time. Well, I guess you know the drill. Realize now that you’re not getting past me, not unless you’re a damn good combatant and pure as snow. In fact, you might just want to give it up right now.”

A soft, guttural grunt escaped Aubrey’s throat. “I never give up. I’ve already started this. You can bet I’m going to be the one to finish it. I think you’ll find that my skill and my character are more than sufficient.”

The guardian was thoughtful for a moment, casting his eyes to the side as he pondered. “Mm… well, I certainly hope so, for the princess’s sake and for yours. It would be such a shame if you were all talk – as per the usual. We’ve become accustomed to let-downs, though.” He returned his gaze to the knight in front of him, shrugging slightly.

“Well, sir, perhaps you should allow me to demonstrate. Draw your sword.” Now the hand gripped the sword’s hilt tightly and drew it smoothly from its scabbard. Blue eyes were burning with challenge.

Another chuckle escaped the man. “I don’t use a sword, my dear human. I don’t need one.”

Aubrey raised a brow. “Really?” The sword clattered to the floor. “Then neither do I.”

Silver orbs widened, fixated on the disarmed challenger before him. This was a new one. “Interesting,” he noted, “very interesting. As a friendly warning, however, you might want to pick that back up.” His arms were still folded as he waited for the knight to follow his advice.

“No,” came the casual reply. “No, I don’t think I will.” Now Aubrey’s arms were folded, not in wait but in obstinacy.

For the third time, the protector of the princess laughed. “I see, then! Have it your way, though you’re going to regret it. Since you are clearly disadvantaged, even more than you would be with a weapon in your hand, I’ll be charitable enough to allow you the first strike – if you can land it. First, however, I’d like to ask you one small thing.”

“And that would be?” Aubrey’s foot tapped, impatient to begin.

“You’re a woman… aren’t you?” The man looked smug.

“Yes,” replied Aubrey, eyes searching him. “Does there happen to be some problem with that?”

“Oh, no. No, not at all. It’s just… well, interesting.” There was something in his gaze that Aubrey could not quite read.

She stared for a moment longer, then dropped her arms to her sides. “And that’s it.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Then let’s begin!”

Her response was quick and her body quicker. In a flash she had tackled him, taking him with her to the ground. This had caught him off guard, but not enough to stave a response, and the heated battle had begun.